


Break Your Fall

by KCKenobi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Satine Kryze, Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Post-Episode: s05e16 The Lawless, Protective Anakin Skywalker, Sad Obi-Wan Kenobi, Whump, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:53:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27013057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KCKenobi/pseuds/KCKenobi
Summary: When Anakin finds out Satine is dead, he goes in search of a shattered Obi-Wan.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 40
Kudos: 301





	Break Your Fall

Anakin was sitting up in bed before he even processed that something was wrong.

For a moment, he didn’t move—just stared out into the darkness, heart racing from nightmares he didn’t remember now. Anakin was no stranger to sleeplessness. He rarely made it past four A.M. before he found himself up and about, meditating or tinkering with R2 or watching holos to distract himself from the reason why. But something was different now. He swallowed, his throat tight with an unease he couldn’t quite name. As he pushed back the covers and padded barefoot into the living room, the feeling followed.

And then, when he flipped on the holoTV and her face lit up the screen, Anakin understood why.

 _“Sundari is in uproar after the murder of Satine Kryze, Duchess of Mandalore,”_ the reporter was saying. _“Authorities are conflicted over the true nature of her death, whether the result of—”_

Anakin didn’t hear the rest. Because all he could think about was Obi-Wan’s guarded eyes, quips of _sarcasm of a solider_ and _delusion of a dreamer,_ two hurried confessions Anakin hadn’t been meant to hear. All he could think about was Obi-Wan’s nose in a poetry book, finger tracing someone’s scribbled handwriting in the margins. All he could think about was saying goodbye on the landing platform several days before. Watching Obi-Wan’s face darken as he turned away, leaving in a borrowed ship, on a mission he couldn’t explain. And now, and _now_ —

Anakin was halfway down the hall before realizing he’d forgotten to put on shoes.

Obi-Wan never changed the passcode to his door, and Anakin didn’t think twice before barging in. In the dim light, his eyes immediately picked out the clues that something was amiss—a robe tossed on the floor instead of neatly down the laundry chute, overturned boots with charred laces. And then he saw it—there on the ground, scuffed and scorched and abandoned.

A red Mandalorian helmet.

Anakin’s breath caught in his throat.

The lights were off in Obi-Wan’s bedroom, but the open blinds let Coruscant’s endless city light stream through the window. And so Anakin could see him clearly—Obi-Wan, sitting up in bed with his back against the headboard, hair ruffled, blankets pulled around his shoulders and knees to his chest. He didn’t look Anakin’s way. Just gazed out at the traffic that flew past the Temple, silent and still.

And then Anakin heard the sniffle.

Obi-Wan rubbed a sleeve across his eyes before he turned. Anakin was frozen in the doorway, as if by taking a step further he’d hit some invisible glass wall, and it would shatter.

But then Obi-Wan was staring back, and his eyes were watery and red, and something shattered anyway.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth as if to speak. All that came out was trembling air. He closed it again.

And so Anakin stepped forward, knelt onto the bed and crawled across the sheets, positioning himself at Obi-Wan’s side.

He put an arm around his shoulders.

For a moment, all he could feel was the tension in Obi-Wan’s shoulder blades—how they hitched with a sniffle, tightened as he swallowed. Trembled with the effort of his lungs to just keep breathing.

But then came the first sob, tight and high-pitched and raw. His shoulders slackened.

As Obi-Wan crumpled sideways, Anakin broke his fall.

They stayed that way—tangled up in the blankets, Anakin’s chin resting on Obi-Wan’s head of tousled hair, the front of his tunic dampening with tears. Obi-Wan’s quiet sobs were split by sniffles and shaky inhales. Anakin found one hand rubbing circles on Obi-Wan’s back, the other in his hair, holding him tight against his chest as if to shield him from the grief. But Anakin knew there was no such thing—no such protection from the inescapable.

Life had proven that to both of them.

And so all he could do was listen, recognizing the weight in every shuddered inhale, and remembering exactly how it feels—the breath that keeps you alive until the next one, and the next one, and the next—even when you’re not sure you want to be. Even when your every breath reminds you of her last. But somehow you keep breathing anyway. Your lungs don’t forget how, even if you do. Air comes in. Air goes out. If there was one thing Anakin knew for certain, it was this.

This, and the fact that Obi-Wan was clinging to him as though terrified he’d leave, and the silent promise that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Obi-Wan sniffled into Anakin’s tunic. One hand snaked up to rub the tears from his eyes before he leaned in again, burying his face in Anakin’s shoulder. Anakin’s fingers combed the ends of his hair.

They stayed there—

 _Air comes in. Air goes out_.

—with nothing left to do but wait for sunrise.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, mixing and matching my Whumptober prompts! This one was inspired by No. 11 “Psych 101” (subprompt “crying”) and No. 19 “Broken Hearts” (subprompts “grief” and “mourning a loved one”). As always, comments and kudos always appreciated 😊 Thanks for reading!
> 
> Come scream about star wars on tumblr with me: [ kckenobi ](https://kckenobi.tumblr.com/)


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